


summer sang in me

by malreves



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, fallen angel AU, this is really soft and less angsty than i was expecting happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malreves/pseuds/malreves
Summary: It hurt when she fell. She burned her way towards the ground, a flaming, brilliant star streaking across the sky. The pain was unimaginable, searing and white hot; the tips of her wings singed and molten, too ragged to bear. It felt like a lifetime, longer even, as she spun, wrapped in her burning wings, and reached for the ground beneath her. It didn’t matter where she was coming from, only that she wasn’t wanted there anymore. She wasn’t wanted anywhere.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87





	1. finally a sin worth hurting for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnyteea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyteea/gifts).



> full credit for this au goes to [sunny](https://twitter.com/sunnyteea) and [eva](https://twitter.com/Evasterrett)

It hurt when she fell. She burned her way towards the ground, a flaming, brilliant star streaking across the sky. The pain was unimaginable, searing and white hot; the tips of her wings singed and molten, too ragged to bear. It felt like a lifetime, longer even, as she spun, wrapped in her burning wings, and reached for the ground beneath her. It didn’t matter where she was coming from, only that she wasn’t wanted there anymore. She wasn’t wanted anywhere. 

\---

_ who attached these heavy wings on my shoulders? – marina tsvetaeva  _

When she made impact, it was a miracle that her feathers stayed attached. There was more pain, real pain, unlike anything she had felt before. Not the burning from the fall, but bone deep pain of bruises blossoming on her knees, across her thighs. Scrapes across her palms pooled with golden blood and smeared metallic across her fingertips. She found, as she stood, that her legs wouldn’t fail her. She stood, shaky as a colt, and made her way through the clearing before her. There was nothing there to suggest humans were nearby, the wood so secluded and dense that Cassandra had created a clearing of her own with her introduction to the ground. Her feet, soft and unaccustomed to walking, ached on every pebble, every twig she came across. Her wings, normally so light and powerful, dragged across the ground behind her, muddied and scorched, sore to the touch. 

She walked, and kept walking. She walked until the moon lit her path rather than the sun, and she could hardly make out the ground in front of her. 

She felt her way towards a tree and sunk down to the base of its trunk. There, alone, bare, and afraid, Cassandra began to cry. 

\--

_ finally, / a sin worth hurting for – natalie diaz _

She saw her for the first time on the end of her seventh day. It felt momentous somehow, the way Adam must have felt the first time he laid eyes on Eve. Cassandra remembered watching them, remembered the wonder in his eyes. The delight and excitement that filled him. Cassandra felt that the first time her eyes saw the declicate curve of her shoulder. The way her hair fell just so, twisted back in a braid, long and golden. The bright green of her eyes, the gentle slope of her nose. She was barefoot and joyful, picking flowers in the small meadow that Cassandra had stumbled upon. 

She was alone, save for a white horse– at least, Cassandra was nearly certain it was a horse; she had never come in contact with one herself. She had a basket of sorts under her arm and was carefully selecting flowers from the meadow to go in the basket; most flowers didn’t escape her clever fingers as she deftly plucked them to keep the stem intact. She seemed to be comfortable here, amongst the flowers, stepping carefully between them and almost twirling as she flitted from patch to patch of blossoms. 

And there was where Cassandra made her first misstep. In her entrancement, she hadn’t seen the twig underfoot until it was too late. In an instant, the snap resounded across the meadow, and the girl shot to attention. 

“Who’s there?” She called out, voice firm but higher than Cassandra expected. She had no weapon but she stood unafraid of a fight. Her purple dress fluttered between her knees in the breeze, and the basket swung in the crook of her arm. 

Cassandra stepped back, farther into the cover of the trees. They had warned her, before, told her humans couldn’t  _ see _ angels. Wouldn’t see angels. As if there was any difference. They had told her of the unbearable loneliness of Earth. The way humans eyes roamed right past you, right through you. As if you weren’t even there. 

She wrapped her wings around herself, and pressed closer to the tree. 

A crease formed between the girl's eyes, and her bottom lip pushed out into a pout. 

“Come out, please?” She paused, settling the basket down. “I promise I won't hurt you.” 

Cassandra peaked out from behind her wings. She had never shied away before, why start now? Why start when she had gotten this far, her rebelliousness had brought her this much? Nothing had been enough to tamp her down before. 

She uncurled her wings from around her body; they arched glorious and downy white behind her. Cassandra stepped into the sunlight. 

The girl’s grass green eyes widened, and Cassandra’s widened in turn. She could  _ see _ her. She could see  _ her _ . The other angels had been wrong; humans had grown. 

The girl made a sharp intake of breath, and stepped forward with a hand outstretched but not quite touching. Her eyes roamed across Cassandra’s body, cataloging the bruises that were mottled yellow across her pale hips and waist. Her eyes darted up and to the side as they passed over the dark curls between Cassandra’s legs. A deep flush spread across her cheeks as her eyes flitted across Cassandra’s breasts, though Cassandra couldn’t understand why. All of her reactions to Cassandra confused her, was there something wrong with the body she inhabited? Some deformity in its shape, its sstructure? Cassandra refused to feel ashamed but faced with such scrutiny the feeling of embarrassment and doubt, so foreign to her, began to trickle in. She held her head high, chin out and dark hair fanned out across her jawline. Who was this human to judge her?

Cassandra let her wings expand behind her, beautiful and terrifying, and filled the span of the meadow. The gasp that filled the space between them and Cassandra felt pride fill in the place that doubt left behind. She had always been told to not be too prideful, to settle down and make herself smaller. But here she was, and she was glorious; what was the harm in acknowledging it? 

The girl lifted a hand to her mouth. 

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed. 

Cassandra didn’t quite blush, but it was an almost thing. 

“Oh my g-” the girl cut herself off, blushing again. “I mean, oh my goodness.” 

Cassandra’s lips quirked. 

“No, just an angel.” Her cool voice responded. 

The girl let out a nervous giggle. She took a step closer to Cassandra, her bare feet quiet in the plush grass. Her eyes roamed across Cassandra’s wings, and she reached out to brush her fingers across the singed tip of a feather. 

“Oh my, this must hurt terribly.” The girl said, biting her lip. 

It took everything in Cassandra not to flinch under the touch; angels never touched each other’s wings, she had never felt such a sensation as the gentle caress across the tip of a badly mangled plume. The gesture had been so gentle, it was almost too much for Cassandra to bear. But she didn’t move the wing from the girl’s touch. 

She didn’t respond to the statement; truthfully everything ached, she couldn’t tell where one pain ended and another began, her wings felt heavy with soreness and gravity. There hadn’t been an end to the pain in all her days on Earth, how could some girl know how to change that?

The girl seemed to think better of herself, and straightened up, barely an arm’s reach from Cassandra. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been incredibly rude!” The girl smoothed out her purple skirts and as she looked down a stray lock of golden hair fell onto her face. She looked up. “My name is Rapunzel, it’s  _ so  _ nice to meet you.” 

Cassandra reached forward and gently tucked the stray hair back behind Rapunzel’s ear. Her hair was silky soft, and the skin of her ear almost velvet to the touch. Cassandra had never felt anything quite like it; it soothed something in her. 

“Rapunzel is a beautiful name.” She responded softly. 

Rapunzel blushed and looked away. 

“Thank you,” she looked up from beneath her lashes, eyes huge and green. “What’s your name?” 

Cassandra’s voice caught in her throat. The request was shy, almost quiet. There was something about it that struck Cassandra, sunk into her heart and took hold of her. Who was this girl and why was she so captivating to Cassandra? What was it about her that made her so special? 

Rapunzel blinked once. 

“Cassandra.” She responded, letting her hand fall to the side. “They called me Cassandra.” 

A flicker of confusion crosses Rapunzel’s face, but it was quickly gone. 

“Well, Cassandra, let me bring you home and take a look at those wings. I’m sure a hot bath and some water will do you well.” Rapunzel said, stepping back to retrieve her basket. 

Cassandra hesitated, if Rapunzel could see her, who else would? What would they do to her in this world, so unfamiliar with Heaven?

As if sensing her hesitation, Rapunzel looked up from where her basket lay. “If you’re worried about others seeing you, I’ve always been more perceptive than most.” 

Cassandra breathed out. “If you’re certain.”

Rapunzel held out a hand. “Just trust me.” 


	2. she is neither pink nor pale

_she is neither pink nor pale, / and she will never be all mine; / she learned her hands in a fairy tale, / and her mouth on a valentine. – edna st vincent millay_

The copper tub Rapunzel had brought to the center of her cavernous room seemed too small to hold Cassandra in all her glory. She gingerly dipped a toe in the steaming water and cast a look of concern over her shoulder at Rapunzel. 

Rapunzel made an encouraging motion. 

“Go on, you’ll fit, I promise. Just leave your wings out; I’ll take care of them separately.” She said, smiling. 

Cassandra took a steadying breath and stepped fully into the bath. She hissed as she sank down and the hot water began to sooth the aches across her body. The warmth filled her as she gingerly laid against the upright back of the tub, carefully arranging her wings to either side. Where they were joined to her back was pleasantly heated by the warmth of the copper against her, and for the first time in days they felt as though they weren’t going to rip straight from her body. Cassandra relaxed in the tub and let her chin dip beneath the water. Her first real bath. 

Rapunzel giggled at the sight of Cassandra so obviously relaxed and went to retrieve a bucket and a cloth. The water in the bucket was perfumed and soapy, Cassandra could tell, as Rapunzel set it beside her left wing. She brought by a stool and a small set of silver shears with her, sitting down carefully beside the massive wing. It was taller than Rapunzel was as she sat, so Cassandra made an effort to extend the wing down and across Rapunzel’s lap, though it was still significantly retracted. 

“Oh! Thank you!” Rapunzel exclaimed. Her hands went above the downy white, almost as if to touch it, but she looked to Cassandra first.

“Will you tell me if it hurts?” Rapunzel asked softly. 

Cassandra blinked once.

“Yes.”

Rapunzel looked back down. “Alright. I’m going to try and trim away the burnt parts; I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Cassandra winced involuntarily. She had never had her feathers trimmed, but they had never been burnt either. The trimming couldn’t hurt more than the burning had. She resolved that they would look better for it in the end, and she wouldn’t want to return in the state she had arrived in, if she returned at all. 

Her voice was rough when it tumbled from her lips but it did not waiver. “Do what you must.” 

Rapunzel seemed to pause before nodding, mostly to herself, and beginning to clean the wing, section by section, with the cloth and the bucket. Cassandra couldn’t lie: the feeling of Rapunzel’s hands gently caressing her feathers was wonderful and soothing, better even than it had felt earlier. Rapunzel carefully washed her feathers, then very gently trimmed the ends that had burned during her fall. She was careful to trim them in approximately the same shape they had been, and for that Cassandra was infinitely grateful. She took great pride in her wings, and the thought of them becoming mangled or ugly pained her. 

Cassandra lost track of how much time they spent there, soaking in the tub while Rapunzel tended to her wings. She had almost fallen asleep when she felt her right wing shift out of Rapunzel’s lap and slip gently to the floor. The water in the tub had cooled and Cassandra opened her eyes. 

“Would you like to wash your hair?” Rapunzel asked, as she retrieved another bucket from the doorway. Cassandra didn’t know how she would explain the empty tub, left to cool. The dirty water in the bucket when Rapunzel herself wasn’t filthy. Rapunzel seemed to be a sort of princess, at least that was what Cassandra had gathered from the castle and the large bedroom. Everything was ornate and gilded. The four poster bed was plush and opulent with a covering that had designs of a sun across the top, and near it was a dressing table and bureau. Near the windows a large easel was set up with paints spread across the floor. There were books on every available surface, and a large bookcase towered on the other side of the bed. Cassandra felt at home here, in Rapunzel’s room, though she had only ever watched humans from afar before; she had never quite gotten this close. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Cassandra replied honestly. 

Rapunzel nodded. “I can help with that.”

She brought the newly acquired bucket over to behind Cassandra and placed the stool directly behind her head. Gently, Rapunzel maneuvered Cassandra’s wings out of the way. 

“Close your eyes.” Rapunzel instructed. She covered Cassandra’s eyes with one hand, and tipped some of the warm water across her hair, wetting it. Rapunzel took a bar of soap and gently began massaging Cassandra’s scalp. She carefully ran her hands through Cassandra’s hair, untangling the knots and snares from her wandering throughout the forest. She rinsed Cassandra’s hair once more, washing out the suds, letting them flow across her shoulders where they settled. 

Cassandra couldn’t quite see her, but something in her felt like Rapunzel was blushing beside her. 

“Thank you.” Cassandra said. 

“You’re welcome.” There was a smile in Rapunzel’s voice. “Do you want the rest of this water to rinse off with?” 

In response, Cassandra stood and turned to face Rapunzel. She was only a little taller than the human, but enough so as to look over the golden halo of her hair in the dying light. 

“Please.” Cassandra said. 

Rapunzel was blushing, Cassandra’s instinct had been correct, and she blushed even more now as she lifted the bucket to pour the remaining water over Cassandra’s chest and arms, letting it trickle down to her legs. Out of the warmth of the water, Cassandra began to shiver, and Rapunzel instantly put the bucket down and went to the bed. She retrieved what Cassandra guessed must be towels, though she couldn’t say for certain, never having seen any herself. She unraveled one and held her arms open for Cassandra. 

“C’mon, you must be freezing!” Rapunzel said, smiling. 

Cassandra stepped out of the tub onto a plush carpet. Her toes had pruned after so long in the water, but the carpet still felt soft beneath her feet. She took a step towards Rapunzel, and let her wrap her up, carefully, with the fluffy white towel. 

“Do you want anything to wear? You’re welcome to anything of mine.” Rapunzel offered as she tucked the towel against Cassandra’s chest. 

Cassandra contemplated the offer for a moment; angels didn’t usually wear clothing, they didn’t have a reason to. She had never covered herself before, though she knew humans had different customs amongst themselves. She had never truly felt cold before, or hot, but the last few days the sensations had begun to creep up on her, slowly but surely, and she knew soon the sensations would get stronger and stronger. 

“I would appreciate that.” Cassandra said. 

Rapunzel nodded and went to retrieve a soft pair of pyjama pants, some underwear, and something curiously tube shaped. She led Cassandra toward the bed and carefully unwrapped the towel around her and began patting her dry. 

“Why is one of those things shaped like a tube?” Cassandra inquired. 

Rapunzel giggled. 

“Oh I thought, well, I guessed, it would be easier to slip up to cover your chest instead of trying to fit a shirt over your wings.” Rapunzel replied. 

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 

She let Rapunzel finish patting her dry gently, then reached for the clothes on the bed. The underwear went on first, after much maneuvering and a steady hand on Rapunzel, who was once again blushing. Then Cassandra, with Rapunzel’s help, slipped into the fabric meant to be a shirt for her and pulled it up until it was snug against her chest. Surprisingly, Rapunzel had been correct, and the lack of shoulder covering left her wings free to move about. 

“See, I knew this would be better!” Rapunzel’s triumphant smile warmed something in Cassandra. 

“Thank you.” Cassandra smiled the smallest smile of her own back, and watched as Rapunzel’s smile became ever so slightly larger. 

Finally, on went the pyjama pants, easier now that Cassandra had practiced putting things on her legs. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, neither with much to say. Rapunzel fiddled with the hem of her bodice, and Cassandra, never one to fidget, simply stood beside her. 

“Well,” Rapunzel started, looking up. “Would you like to sleep?” She paused. “Do angels sleep?”

“On Earth we do.” Cassandra answered simply. She gestured to the bed, almost an ‘after you’ to Rapunzel, and followed her lead in climbing onto the plush bedding after her. 

The light was almost entirely gone in the room by the time they had laid down, and Rapunzel’s hand found Cassandra’s in the darkness. Their fingers intertwined and something settled in Cassandra. 

“Goodnight, Cassandra.” Rapunzel whispered. 

“Goodnight, Rapunzel.” 

Neither of them had noticed the single, downy feather that lay on the ground near the now forgotten tub.


	3. palm to palm is holy palmers kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little birthday gift to sunny <3

_ touching her hands. i felt the / summer splintering in prayer; / touching her hands i felt my / bones migrating in red noise. – sonia sanchez _

It becomes a beautiful impossible thing, what blossoms between them. 

Cassandra started to understand what it truly meant to be  _ human _ . She spent her days with Rapunzel, watched her paint or pick flowers in their meadow. Watched her from behind tall pillars as she danced and curtsied with different princes and princesses, courtiers from around the kingdom, night after night as her parents threw opulent dinners that explained gluttony to Cassandra like nothing had before. She walked as a shadow behind Rapunzel’s step, never seen but always watching. She shared her meals, sneaking sips of wine from Rapunzel's goblet when no one was looking, was fed bites of sweet pastries and fruit from Rapunzel’s fingertips, delicate as a flower. 

Cassandra found her one night, standing in an empty ballroom alone, her opulent dress shimmering around her. 

“Rapunzel?” She asked, stepping forward. The white dress Rapunzel had sewn for her draped around her neck, carefully avoiding her wings, and gracefully lay across the ground, billowing past Cassandra’s sandaled feet as she walked towards the center of the ballroom near where Rapunzel stood. 

Rapunzel looked up at Cassandra and smiled, reaching for her. 

“Dance with me,” she said, without asking. Her touch seared something in Cassandra that she couldn’t quite understand. The feel of her palms on Cassandra’s arms almost burned her, and the sensation in her stomach felt like falling all over again. 

“Rapunzel, I–” Cassandra began but couldn’t get the words out. Rapunzel’s right hand had moved to her left elbow, and her left one had wrapped around Cassandra’s waist. 

“Just follow what I do, it’s easy,” Rapunzel said, guiding Cassandra’s hand into her own. “Your right arm goes on my shoulder, just like that,” 

Cassandra’s mouth was drier than a desert, parched and scorching. Every place where they touched felt like it was on fire, felt like Cassandra would burst into flames at any moment. 

She didn’t understand, all these nights sleeping next to Rapunzel and her touch had never left her feeling this way. A fire had never erupted in her belly and spread to the farthest parts of her, searing her from the inside out; she felt her cheeks heat in response to Rapunzel’s encouraging words as she lay her hand carefully on the silk sleeve of Rapunzel’s dress. 

Though there was no music, Rapunzel timed their steps perfectly. She spun Cassandra in delicate circles around the room, dipped her gently this way and that, brought their bodies closer together, then farther apart. Cassandra could concentrate on nothing else but the warmth emanating from Rapunzel’s palm at the small of her back, the way her fingertips flexed against her bare skin when she wanted to spin Cassandra, or lean her into a dip. The feeling was intoxicating. 

After an eternity, but really no time at all, Rapunzel returned them to the center of the ballroom, gently spinning Cassandra one last time before letting go of her hold on her. 

“Thank you, Cass.” Rapunzel said, smiling as she looked up at Cassandra. 

Cassandra’s throat worked, but no sound came out. She could feel the blush that painted the tops of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, undoubtedly visible to Rapunzel. 

Rapunzel paused for a moment, then leaned up on her tip toes and kissed Cassandra very gently on the cheek. When she pulled back, there was a blush dusting her cheeks as well. 

Cassandra’s hand touched her cheek without her permission; Rapunzel giggled. 

“Goodnight, Cass.” Rapunzel said, then slipped from the room in a whisper of silk and ribbon. 

Cassandra could only stare dumbfounded as she walked away. 

A handful of misshapen feathers littered the ballroom around where she stood, but she didn’t have the eyes to see them. 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/desreveries) to cry about angel cass


End file.
